“Not that much smaller than the Temple of the Feathered Serpent.”
“A little more than half the size, actually, but you’re correct that it’s a large area.”
“Let’s go over and have a look. Would we need a new permit?”
“I think as the senior functionary of INAH here, I’d say no.”
They piled into Antonio’s official Suburban and crawled the length of the Avenue of the Dead, taking care to avoid the scattered groups of tourists taking in the sights. When they reached the temple, they climbed the slope behind it, which had only been partially cleared, and stared at the rear of the smaller pyramid as if they could intuit where the lost chamber was with instinct alone.
“Call it ninety feet to excavate. But this is considerably more dirt to move. Could we get a backhoe here?” Remi asked. “Just to do the gross-level clearing and then we could have the crew take over . . .”
“I don’t see why not,” Antonio said. “There are numerous places in town that rent equipment and a man to operate it. Perhaps we could get one this afternoon. And with sufficient financial incentive, the man would probably be willing to work late. We might get it done in a day or so, then move in after that with the men as you suggested.”
“Then let’s stake out an area to clear.”
A huge backhoe arrived at two and worked till nine, doing so by the glow of the work lights once the sun set. Sam, Remi, and Lazlo left when the operator did and took a taxi to the restaurant where they’d eaten the prior night. The food was good and the mood excited, the sense of having made significant progress palpable, as they discussed the project in hushed tones.
The next morning the excavation started at eight and by two-thirty the entire back section of the pyramid base was ready for the waiting men to begin the more careful digging with picks and shovels. The crew went to work, continuing till dark.
They resumed the following day, clearing the dirt under the relentless glare of the hot sun. At six p.m., one of the picks broke through the hard clay into a cavity below. The hole was widened enough to allow entry. This time, Remi insisted on being the first one in, and after similar warnings as Sam had gotten before, she was lowered into the opening with a high-powered portable light and a radio.
“What do you see?” Sam asked after thirty seconds.
“It’s a crude tunnel. It goes under the temple.”
“How far?”
“That’s what I intend to find out,” Remi said, her tone short. Sam decided to leave her in peace and allow her to explore until she felt a desire to communicate. After a long pause, the radio crackled again with her voice. “There’s an entryway. Stone, and carved far more elaborately than any we’ve seen before. But it’s blocked with smaller rocks mortared in place. We’ll need something to break through. And it would probably be a good idea to shore up the tunnel, although if it hasn’t caved in over the centuries, it’s probably okay for now.”
Sam passed the information on to Antonio, who was standing by the opening with Lazlo, staring into the void. He ordered the men into action. The foreman brought a tall ladder, and three workers dropped into the dark. The rest stayed above and passed down wooden beams and boards to build primitive shoring.
“I’m coming down,” Sam said, and after the first wave of workers was clear, he descended, a pick in his free hand, followed by Lazlo, Antonio, and Maribela, all carrying heavy iron pry bars. Their flashlight beams played along the clay walls until they saw Remi around a bend in the tunnel, facing a crudely mortared rock wall framed by carved stone—the carvings much like those they’d all seen in the crypts at the find in López Mateos.
“Look. The pyramid with the moon,” Remi said, pointing at the procession depicted at the top of the doorway. “This is it. It has to be.”
Sam nodded. “Stand clear,” he warned. “Let’s see if we can get through this rock, shall we?”
Everyone stepped back. He swung the pick and it connected with stone. A chunk of mortar flew off. He swung it again and another, bigger piece dropped at his feet. “This will work. It’ll just take a little time.”
“Let’s have the laborers do this,” Maribela suggested.
Sam shook his head. “No way. Just give me a few minutes.” He continued beating at the wall, and, after several dozen blows, one of the rocks fell into the empty space beyond. “We’re through! I’ll knock out a few more of these and then let’s put those crowbars to use.”
Two crudely squared stones collapsed inward after his next blow, then another on his next. He dropped the pick by a side column as Lazlo and Antonio moved in with their crowbars, the area too limited for Remi or Maribela to help. More of the rocks dropped into the space, and then the lower part of the wall collapsed in a heap of rubble. A dust cloud rose from the pile.
“I think Remi should do the honors,” Sam said.
Antonio motioned to her with a small bow of assent. “Absolutely. Señora?”
She lifted the bulky portable light and held it in front of her and then leaned into the newly open area and glanced around. “It’s a vault.”
Remi climbed through the opening, light in tow. They heard her gasp, and a shiver of fear went up Sam’s spine.
“Are you okay?” he demanded, shining his flashlight into the dark.
“Perfect. I think it’s safe to say we found the tomb.” She paused. “There’s a body covered in jade on a stone platform, and several mounds of offerings around it. They’re dusty, but I see some glinting, so probably gold. And jade masks.”
“Gold? The Toltecs didn’t have any gold,” Maribela said.